The Wedding Dance Read Online Free PDF

find a way past them. Then he would build what lay between them slowly and carefully, until it was something that could really last.
    Fortunately, he thought with his first real smile since she’d walked out on him at dinner, if there was one thing he was good at, it was building things that lasted.

Chapter Five
    Phoebe paid the taxi driver, then began to make her way up the stairs of her apartment building. All she wanted was to get to the other side of her front door so that she could shut out a world where guys like Patrick Knight thought it was perfectly acceptable to start talking about marriage on a first date.
    First and last.
    There was no way she was ever going near Patrick again romantically. He might be gorgeous and fun to be around, but there were plenty of guys like that out there.
    Well, maybe not quite as good looking or as easy to be with as Patrick, but at least they wouldn’t go around demanding more than Phoebe was willing to give.
    She turned a corner and almost walked into a guy she had seen coming out of an apartment downstairs a couple of times. “I’m glad I ran into you,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to introduce myself.” He held out his hand. “I’m Jack. My girlfriend and I live in 1F.”
    “Phoebe.” She shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
    She was already starting back up the stairs when he said, “Listen, we’re planning to throw a party in a few weeks to celebrate getting engaged and we thought it would be nice to invite everyone from the building. We figured it was a good excuse to finally meet the neighbors. We’d love to see you there.”
    “Congratulations,” she said, and then, “I often work weekends, but once you know the date, let me know and I’ll check to see if I can make it.” She hoped she wasn’t being too rude for not prolonging the conversation, but all she could concentrate on just then was a long bath and vegging out in front of the TV with a glass of wine.
    But, for some reason, the combination of engagement parties and her day looking at Rose’s property with Patrick, had her needing to push back a strange longing for something more than her little apartment, for a house and garden of her own to putter in.
    Didn’t all her friends with houses and yards always tell her how lucky she was not to have to deal with all the upkeep a house demanded? And didn’t they always marvel at how she managed to live virtually clutter free?
    Phoebe had never seen much point in weighing herself down with stuff, with two exceptions. The first was the collection of clothes that had long since outgrown the available closet space and now occupied stylish racks stationed along the side wall. The other came in the form of the potted plants dotting every surface. She loved that plants didn’t demand anything beyond a little water and some light to grow in.
    All in all, Phoebe’s apartment was the perfect space for her to remind herself of why she didn’t need anyone making things—
    “Hi, Sweetie.”
    —difficult.
    “Mom?”
    Phoebe thought back to the excuse she’d given Patrick. One little white lie about her mother being at her apartment needing help, and now here she was.
    Even by karma’s standards, that was quick.
    Angela Davis was in her fifties and people tended to say that if women ended up looking like their mothers, Phoebe was going to be very lucky indeed. Her mother exuded a sense of elegance, from the tips of her manicured nails to her perfectly applied makeup. Only a few cracks showed in the façade, such as the smudges in her mother’s makeup under the eyes, and the suitcase perched next to the sofa, pushed back slightly so that Phoebe wouldn’t have seen it immediately if she hadn’t been looking for it.
    “Hello, honey. It’s so good to see you.”
    Her mother enveloped her in a hug that immediately took Phoebe back to being five years old and sitting in the warmth of her mother’s lap, enveloped in the floral scent Estee Lauder